


Transfer

by Ronny



Series: Death of the Nuclear Family [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: All the kind of stuff you'd expect from SVU, Crime, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, mentions of rape/non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ronny/pseuds/Ronny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The introduction of a new member of the SVU team brings forward a hidden life and a past from hell. Rated T for future swearing and mild violence</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Russian

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again fanfiction so it's been a very long time since I posted anything so please sit back and enjoy. Speaking in russian in in italics and bold just to make it clearer and I own nothing.

Chapter One - The Russian

 

 

The underused warehouse stank, the overwhelming smell that you’d only think to find in a sewer was suffocating. The smell however was radiating for the four crates in front of them. They weren’t large perhaps big enough to fit five or six women in them if you packed them in like sardines. Which was exactly what was inside them,

**_“Open it, let’s see the condition.”_** Vankov, the leader of the prostitution ring in New York, barked at several of his lackeys in Russian. The three men that had been stood at Vankov’s side headed to the first crate each with crowbars in hand. There was a series of loud cracks as the end of the crate broke open revealing four women, they all looked malnourished and the smell had increased tenfold,

**_“How are they?”_ ** Vankov asked his men,

_**“Well,”**_ Pavel, one of Vankov’s closest lieutenants, replied, **_“They’re alive.”_**  
Vankov gave the nod for the rest of the crates to be opened. When the three men broke open the next crate there was a slew of Russian curses followed by a woman running out throwing punched. The first hit caught Vankov’s first lackey by surprise, the second did not. He grabbed hold of her skinny arm before throwing the girl against the side of the crate, his pressed his body against hers and sneered at her in Russian,

  
_**“I should beat you for this woman.”** _

_**“The clients wanted them untouched.”**_ Pavel reminded his co-worker. The man sighed, 

**_“Maybe another time love.”_** He released the now weeping girl and watched her crumple to the ground. Vankov watched impassively, 

**_“Get the other crates open.”_** He ordered.  
The remaining crated were opened without any issue and the women now stood together, some of them speaking quietly in Russian, others looking at the men before them. Before Vankov had the chance to bark more orders the doors of the warehouse slammed open and smoke filled the room before there was a shout of,

“NYPD everybody freeze!”  
The women began to panic as the cops poured in, Pavel almost missed Vankov slipping out of an overlooked door in the madness. The Russian moved to go after him but before he could get very far he was slammed into a wall by a plain clothed detective,

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked sarcastically. Pavel groaned at the pain blossoming in his chest,

“I can see my police brutality suit already.” Pavel told the officer, who was cuffing his hands, in broken English.

“Yeah, yeah. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law,” he pulled the Russian away from the wall and started to lead him towards the door, “you have the right to an attorney, if you can not afford an attorney one will be appointed for you.”

The holding cell of the NYPD SVU lockup was cold and reeked slightly of urine and body odor. It was also being shared by three Russians,  
 ** _“Where the fuck is the boss?”_ ** The dark haired lackey, who’s eye was beginning to swell, asked the other two in Russian,

**_“Someone will be here soon.”_** The second reassured him. Pavel just sighed letting his head rest against the wall of the cell,

**_“You two are idiots. No one’s coming for us. Boss was always careful, made sure we didn’t know anything that could incriminate him. We’re on our own.”_ **

**_“We know his name.”_** The first one that had spoken argued,

**_“You really think that’s his actual name?”_ **

**_“What are we going to do?”_ **

**_“Ask for a lawyer.”_ **

Olivia Benson watched the three men in the cell as they chatted in Russian. The two brunette men that were sitting together had been identified as Andrei and Valery Baryshev by their fingerprints. They were Russian nationals who had immigrated to the states with their now aging mother eleven years ago. 

“What have we got?” Amaro asked moving to stand beside her. She passed him their files from off her desk,

“The brothers have rap sheets as long as my arm. They graduated from petty theft and solicitation to grand larceny. They also have ties to the Russian mob.”  
Amaro sighed thumbing through the files,

“Brilliant, what about the blonde?” 

“Ran his fingerprints, got nothing. No wallet, no ID.”

“Let’s talk to him first then.”

Amaro stared at the man across the table. His short blonde hair was neatly styles, blue eyes staring blankly at the detective and his jaw was set.

“Why don’t we start with some introductions. I’m Detective Amaro and you are?”

The blonde man smirked tilting his head to study the detective,  
“You don’t even know my name?” He asked in broken English, “You can’t be very good cops.”

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

“I’m sure you will detective, however I doubt your intelligence. I would like to talk to the detective that arrested me.”

Amaro got up from his seat heading to the door,  
“You might not like that.”

Cragen sighed for behind the one way mirror,

“Who the hell is this guy?”

“Might be the one in charge. That’s why we got nothing on him.” Fin suggested,

“It’s possible but it’s still odd that he’s not in the system.”

“Well let’s find out.” Fin headed towards the door.

“Wait a sec, let him sweat it out for a while. Liv and Amaro are going to talk to the brothers. Maybe they’ll find something that can help us with our mysterious man.”

Ten minutes later Amaro and Benson had re-entered the room where Fin was watching the Russian in the interview room,

“Any luck?”

“Nope, they both lawyered up. You going to talk to John Doe now?” Benson asked eyeing the blonde man who was leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the table.

“Alright I’m going to grab Rollings.”

“If it isn’t my new best friend.” The Russian smirked, taking his feet of the table, as Fin and Amanda entered the interview room,

“Well if we’re such good friends you wouldn’t mind telling us your name now would you?”

“Not a problem. I’m Pavel Chekov.”

“Like from Star Trek?” Amanda laughed, 

“You have no idea how often I get that.”

“So, going from the other two you’re in charge right?” Fin asked.

Pavel just shrugged, “What gives you that idea?”

“Well,” Amanda mused, “you’re the only one without a record.”

“In fact you my friend don’t exist.” Fin added,

“Perhaps you’re not looking in the right place.”

“Look we’ve got you on trafficking and when we get an interpreter in here all those lovely ladies you had in crates are going to start talking about your sex trafficking and prostitution ring. So why don’t you just hurry things along.”

“Get some good faith with the ADA.”

Pavel broke his staring match with Fin to look at the blonde detective,  
“I believe I’m allowed one phone call.” 

Rollings frown deepened as she crossed her arms,  
“I’ll go get you that phone.”  
  
Cargen sighed as Amanda came back into the room,  
“There’s something off about that guy.”

“Yeah he’s still not asking for a lawyer.” Amanda told him,

“I want to know who he calls.” Cragen told her.

The archaic looking phone clunked down on to the table in front him. It was black and almost all the numbers had been worn away,  
“Thank you detective.”

The blonde Russian picked up the receiver hitting the buttons quickly, like he’d dialed the number a thousand times,

“I need you to come down to the station,” he spoke into the phone. There was a pause as the person on the other line spoke, “Forgot it.” He answered whatever the person on the other end of the line. Pavel put down the phone, 

“Thank you detectives.”

“You’re welcome.” Fin replied sarcastically.

“I will tell you this detectives: I’m not the one in charge.”

“And who is?” Amanda smirked, “One of the brothers? They don’t seem like the leadership type.”

“Not the brothers.”

“Then who?!” Fin yelled,

“That’s enough detective.” Barba told them entering the room. Amanda frowned, 

“We didn’t call you yet.”

“No, he did.” Barba motioned towards the Russian before pulling a police shield out of his pocket and placing it on the table, “meet detective James Carter, NYPD.”


	2. The Sex Trafficking Ring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos they made me very happy. I apologise in advance to Bucken-Berry for the bold later in this chapter, last time I'll do it promise.
> 
> Speech in bold and italics is Russian. Insert disclaimer here and please enjoy.

The Sex Trafficking Ring

 

Fin picked up the badge looking at who he thought had been Pavel,

"How come you didn't tell us about this?"

James shrugged his heavy Russian accent suddenly gone, "I'm sorry I had to string you along like that but I try not to carry my badge when I'm undercover. For obvious reasons and I didn't know you were going to be raiding us today."

Fin handed over the badge, "Yeah we got an anonymous tip off."

"From who?"

"Why is it important?" Amanda asked,

"Because those two you got in lockup aren't going to be helpful in taking down the prostitution ring or the trafficking ring."

"Then who is?"

"There was another man goes by Vankov, probably not his real name, he's in charge of the prostitution but he's not the one that brings the girls into the country. I'm not even sure who does they call him топор. It's Russian for hatchet. It describes the way he likes to deal with people who don't do what he asks."

"Well he sounds like a fun guy." Amanda commented,

"Yeah well, he's not. I was suppose to go to where he's holdup with Vankov and the new girls tonight. That was when I was intending to call in back up."

"So what you're saying is that we need to let you go back undercover?" Barba asked clearly unhappy with this idea.

Carter turned to the ADA, "I need to take this guy down I've been working toward it for six months."

Barba let out a small sigh before turning to Amanda and Fin, "Can we have a minute?"

"Sure." Amanda answered leaving the interview room with Fin.

James sat up on the interview table and looked up at the ADA,

"Rafael I need to go back undercover."

"Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in-"

"I did not call the cops." The blonde cut him off,

"Who did?"

"I don't know. Someone who lost their nerve."

Barba put his hands on his hips and frowned at the man before him,

"That's all you have to say?"

James stared at him for a moment before grabbing hold of his baby blue tie and pulling him down smacking their lips together. It was a split second before Rafael responded grabbing hold of the other mans neck deepening the kiss. Rafael was the first to pull away,

"That was really unprofessional."

"Yeah, too bad I don't care."

"You know they're probably watching through that glass." He motioned towards the one way mirror,

"Getting a show then aren't they." James laughed,

"You're a child do you know that?"

"Yeah you tell me that all the time."

Barba fixed his tie motioning towards the window for the detectives to come back in,

"Call me when you're out."

"Always," Carter flashed him a smile, "but first Pavel Chekov needs to make bail."

"You're Russian counterpart better find a good lawyer then."

* * *

**Arraignment Court**

"Councilor how does your defendant plead?" The stern face of Judge William Koehler asked the lawyer,

"Not guilty." Carter's now heavily accented voice answered,

The judge gave a sigh, "Very well, what do the people recommend?"

Barba looked towards the judge his calm exterior a vast difference from the sheer panic that was actually coursing through his mind,

"The people recommend remand."

"Objection your honor," Oliver Gates, piped up, "my client is not a flight risk, he has little resources to travel and doesn't even have a valid passport."

"Your client also has ties to the Russian mob. Or did you overlook that little fact?"

"Save it for your trial judge," Koehler barked, "bail is set at half a million," he banged his gavel against the table, "next case."

* * *

It didn't take long for Vankov to bail him out of jail once he was called. They were sitting in the backseat of the Russian's black escalade. Along with Vankov there was a young woman sat practically in his lap, she was stick thin, with pasty skin and a barely there dress. The worst part was even thought she was wearing a seducing smile she was dead behind the eyes. Vankov's usual blank face had been replaced with a mask of barely contained rage,

" _ **What the hell went down in that warehouse?"**_ Vankov asked his lieutenant,

" _ **How am I suppose to know? I got arrested Vankov they're going to send me down for the prostitution ring."**_

" _ **Don't concern yourself with it. The big man's got it covered."**_ He smirked pointing his fingers to the roof,

" _ **Who god?"**_

Vankov snorted, " _ **No, Hatchet we get the privilege of his company tonight."**_

" _ **Even without the girls?"**_ Carter asked, suddenly concerned that the man in charge had more planned for them then drinks as they bask in their failure to deliver the girls,

" _ **We did not have the only shipment coming in today."**_

" _ **Of course. I forgot."**_

" _ **It's going to be a good night,"**_ Vankov gave him a smarmy smile,  _ **"Might even get a taste of the merchandise."**_

Carter felt a spark of sickness run through him before it became a horrid feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach, he pushed past it to give the Russian a smile,

" _ **That does sound fun."**_

The escalade came to a slow stop on the corner of 273 West Broadway not far from the Manhattan Broadway Hotel were Pavel Chekov resided,

" _ **Go get your self cleaned up. You stink of that place, we'll wait for you out here."**_ He flashed Carter another smile before groping the young woman.

Carter got out of the car wishing he could take a shower hot enough to burn the stink of Vankov's escalade off his skin but unfortunately for him the shower in his hotel room only reached lukewarm at best. He prayed for the day he could return to his own home. He opened up the door to his crappy motel room before pulling out his cell phone and calling his handler, who had been marked as 'Mom' in his phone,

"You got arrested?" The curt voice of Elise Marriot came down the line, Marriot was a stern faced Captain who had been on the job for more years then Carter cared to even consider and she didn't suffer fools,

"Is everyone going to yell at me today?" He bit back the stress of the job beginning to weigh heavy on him,

Marriot huffed down the line,

"I have liaised with Captain Cragen, the brothers are still in lockup and we are ready to move in on your word. What do you have?"

Carter filling his Captain in on the details telling her that he would let her know the address when he got there, she wasn't happy but sometimes you have make difficult decisions. He tossed his cell phone onto the ratty comforter of the bed before throwing his jacket and grey shirt in the same direction. The bathroom in the hotel was what could only be described as seventies style complete with the avocado colored interior and fake gold fixtures. The pipes in the bathroom groaned as he turned on the hot water for the shower/bath the blonde detective stripped off the rest of his clothes before stepping into the almost hot spray washing away the grime that felt like it was coating his skin.

As darkness descended the New York skyline Carter once again found himself inhabiting the role of Pavel Chekov and sitting in the black escalade that he was really beginning to hate. He had swapped his plain clothes for neat dark colored jeans and a dark red button down shirt with black loafers.

Vankov was once again accompanied by the same girl as earlier the only difference was that she had changed into a strappy, pink, glittered dress that barely covered her backside along with sky high stilettos.

By the time they were in down town New York the girl, who had introduced herself as Natalya, had migrated into his lap and was telling him stories of her sisters in broken English. The car came to a stop outside what appeared to be one of Vankov's brothels Carter followed Vankov and Natalya into the brownstone careful to stay behind them while sending a text to his superior. The inside was nice enough the walls coated in floral wallpaper and the floor was grey carpet, the scent of sex was mixed with cigar smoke and various perfumes that the girls had been doused in.

He followed Vankov into the back room of the house with would had traditionally been used for a dining room however this dining room had a woman laying on the table topless.

"You are the boy I've been hearing about?" The man who he assumed was in charge asked in a heavy accent,

"I assume so." Carter answered taking in the mans appearance. He looked to be in his mid fifties with thinning black hair, a beer gut and deep wrinkles adorning his face. The man let out a chuckle before lighting a cigar,

"Where exactly are you from in Russia?"

"Karachev." He answered. Pavel Chekov, thirty six, from Karachev, Russia, immigrated to the states pre-9/11, fallen on hard times at the loss of his job as a bouncer, has an aging mother back in Russia and sends money to her. The story had been hammered into his head over and over again until he'd known it by heart, he was used to becoming different people now. He wondered briefly how much damage that had done to his psyche. Carter had been so focused on his inner rambling he missed the mans reply and furthermore his next question. However before he had a chance to ask him to repeat it the front and back doors of the brownstone were kicked in.

This resulted in pure chaos girls were screaming and others were drawing their guns. Carter felt panic spike through him as Vankov drew a gun next to him and pointing it towards the doorway to the dining room, he noticed others doing the same. Shots began to ring out as the cops made their way further into the house, SWAT were the first ones through the door of the dining room. Carter watched as they took down Vankov with a bullet the others surrendered their guns and moved to cuff everyone including him. Rafael was going to be pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure why it ended like that. Oh well time to start the next one. Hope you enjoyed!  
> And if you're on tumblr come find me if you feel like it I'm: another blonde bombshell . tumblr . com but without the spaces obviously.


	3. The Victim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been putting off posting this chapter because I can't decide if I actually like it but here goes nothing. Enjoy!

The Victim

James had spent most of his teenage years going from foster home to foster home. So for him one of the best things in the world was waking up in his own bed, with a comfortable mattress, soft sheets and familiar scents. He didn't however enjoy being woken up. Currently Rafael was jabbing him in the side from where he was standing next to the bed. James groaned picking up his head from the pillow to switch sides, he peeled his eyes open to see his partner who was already fully dressed in his three piece suit, hair styled impeccably.

"I hate you," he groaned, "what time is it?"

Rafael straitened his tie, "Seven, I've been up since six."

He gave the other man a pointed look; James just rolled his eyes in response,

"Not all of us run on caffeine."

Rafael smirked, "When are you going undercover again?"

James rolled on to his back, stretching his arms out above his head,

"I'm actually not."

The ADA frowned, "Why?"

He looked around the moment before replying softly,

"I put in for a transfer."

"Why?" Rafael repeated.

James huffed looking up at him,

"Because I'm sick of it. I used to think it was worth it, going undercover to get the perp, but now I think it's time to let someone else do it."

Rafael nodded sitting down on to the bed,

"I couldn't agree more."

"Really? I expected more of an argument. A lecture about giving up. No? Nothing?"

The other man shrugged,

"It's your decision."

"You're glad I'm leaving undercover." The blonde man accused,

"I didn't say that."

James smiled, "You miss me when I'm not here."

Rafael got up from the bed, walking out of the room,

"I never said that."

The detective sighed lying back on the bed,

"You miss me."

"You still have to get up for work." The other man reminded his partner as he poured another cup of coffee. James groaned again before rolling out of bed, he briefly considered making the bed before deciding Rafael could do it. He wondered into the bathroom stretching out his back, yawning as it gave a satisfying click. Turning on the shower, he stepped into the hot spray letting it wash away the remaining tiredness.

"Where have you been reassigned?" Rafael asked as soon as the other man stepped into the living room, freshly showered, dressed and craving cereal.

"They've temporarily assigned me to hate crimes."

"Ahhh finally defending our people." He laughed taking a sip from his ridiculously large coffee cup,

"God, you sound like my sister." James groaned heading into their kitchen through a curved arch to pour himself a bowl of Lucky Charms,

"Which sister?"

The blonde and dropped down on the couch next to the ADA, shoveling cereal into his mouth,

"The annoying one."

Rafael frowned, "You know that doesn't narrow things down."

James just shrugged, "You know I forget which one of my sisters said what."

The other man nodded in agreement,

"So hate crimes?"

"Yeah." James responded around another mouthful of cereal,

"Dealing with victims?"

"Yeah."

"Because you're so good with people?"

"You can talk."

"Good point," Rafael pulled out his phone as it beeped, "I got to go. Try not to get yourself killed, see you tonight," he kissed his partner before jumping up from the couch handing the other man his coffee cup, "drink it it'll wake you up."

James sniffed the still hot beverage before putting it down on the coffee table in front of him,

"I'll see you tonight."

* * *

The squad room for the hate crimes unit was bland to say the least the once white tiles were now grey and the whole place stank of stale, burnt coffee.

"You must be our new detective." The man who addressed him was older with hair grey that was thinning on top and he was quite a few inches shorter then the blonde man,

"That's me, James Carter," he stuck out his hand for the other man to shake, "nice to meet you."

The older man shook his hand,

"Detective Mason, welcome to bias crimes, hate to drop you in at the deep end but we've been called in over at Mercy Hospital."

Carter flashed him a smile, happy to get out of the coffee stink, "Lead the way."

The car ride over to the hospital was filled with a static silence and Carter's fingers itched to check his cell phone with no doubt had three or four texts from Rafael the first few asking if he'd managed to insult and/or get punched by any of the victims and the last text actually checking his first day at Bias crimes was going.

"So is there a particular way of treating the victims?"

Mason snorted, "This isn't the rape squad; just remember your sensitivity training and you should be alright. Just like back when you were walking the beat."

"Good to know." Carter frowned, he had hated walking the beat it had been all about getting to know people so when there was a crime they'd come to you. He never was very good with people.

Marcy Lynette had always considered herself one to stand up for herself, so when a man had grabbed her from behind as she walked home from her part time job in florists she had naturally fought back. It hadn't however been enough. The man that attacked her had been a good six foot and strong. She could still smell his rancid breath as he had pinned her down. She could still hear the profanities he spat. Marcy was so caught up in her harsh memories that she barley noticed two people walking into her hospital room until one of the kinder nurses, Jane, tapped her lightly on the arm

"Marcy, these police officers would like to talk to you about what happened."

"Oh," she looked over at the two men both of them were uninformed. One was taller with blonde hair that was shaved short; he was wearing more casual clothes jeans and a t-shirt. She noticed his gun was hanging from a holster just inside his coat. The other man however was stockier, less physically imposing. With his badge hanging around his stained green tie. She was glad that he approached her bed to speak with her and the other stayed across the room. "What do you want to know?" She asked the older man.

"Just what happened?"

"I already told the other cops, the ones in uniform."

"We're from the hate crimes division; we think your attack might have been race related." The blonde man had piped up. His voice had been softer then she had imagined his accent showed remnants of the Deep South.

"Well he said things," she paused, "but it's nothing I haven't had yelled at me down the street."

"Have you seen this man before?"

"No, of course not. Why would someone I know want to hurt me?"

"Well a number of crimes are perpetrated by someone one the victim knew and-"

"What my partner means to say," Mason cut him off, "is that there may be a chance that you've seen this man before. Could you tell us anything about him? Any distinctive marks?"

"He was white, tall, wearing a hoddie, dark hair maybe. I didn't get a good look at him, it was dark."

"What else happened?"

"He, he grabbed me. Pulled me into the alley next to the florists," she paused again, "he knocked my head into the wall. I tried to fight back that's when his hood came down but he didn't stop." Tears started down the woman's face again.

"Okay, I think that's enough. We're going to get you to sit down with a sketch artist anyways."

Marcy gave the older detective a nod and watched the two of them leave the room.

"Is is me or was she not telling us something?" Carter pondered as the two of them exited the hospital.

"Yeah," Mason grunted, "I was thinking the same thing."

"Maybe she's ashamed or protecting someone?"

"She did get defective when we asked if she knew her attacker."

"Then we should definitely look into her life. Talk to her friends."

"And that flower shop may not have CCTV but that doesn't mean that other places on that street don't." Mason suggested.

Carter nodded in agreement, "I'll get a court order."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah it kinda doesn't have an ending so to be continued...


	4. Enter SVU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicating this chapter to chiltonme because I wouldn't have finished it without their comment. 
> 
> I did a thing...... some description of a almost panic attack hopefully not too graphic.

Enter SVU 

The SVU squad room was as busy as ever, pimps were being dragged through to the cells and scantly clad prostitutes were refusing to give statements. Amaro groaned dropping down at his desk opposite Benson.

“I really need a day off; you know spend a day in Central Park with Zara.”

“I hear you Nick I could do with one too.”

“Too bad,” Cargen announced walking out of his office, “you guys just caught a case. Two detectives from hate crimes will be here soon.”

“Hate crimes?” Benson asked, “Why are they in on one of ours?”

“Because they caught this one first. Looks like the victim wasn’t too forthcoming about her rape, the detectives didn’t know until the vic asked one of the nurses for the morning after pill.”

“So it’s a rape case it’s ours.” Amaro replied.

“1PP want’s you to work with the hate crimes unit, so show them all were friendly and play nice.”

“You got it Captain.”

It wasn’t long later when Benson noticed an awfully familiar blond detective walk through the doors of the SVU unit followed by an older man that Benson briefly recalled from another case.

“Detective Benson?” The older detective asked as he approached her desk.

“That’s me,” she replied standing up so she could shake his hand, “you must be from hate crimes?”

“That we are. I’m Detective Mason and this is my partner Detective Carter.”

“Oh we’ve met before, are you Russian again today?” She replied giving Carter a smile.

“Sadly I’m just little ol’ me,” he chuckled, “undercover had to give me up eventually.”

Benson nodded, “You guys already talk to the victim?”

“Yeah she wasn’t exactly forthcoming.” Mason grunted moving towards the coffee machine.

“It can take rape victims months, sometimes years to come forward.” Amaro informed the older detective.

“She seemed a little hesitant in talking to us; maybe she would be more comfortable talking to Benson.” Carter suggested nodding toward the dark haired female detective.

“And what are you two going to do while we clear up the mess you lot made with the victim?” Amaro commented.

“Interview the surrounding shops and gathering their CCTV, unless you would want that job Detective?”

“I’m good.” Amaro smirked grabbing his jacket and heading towards the elevator with Benson.

Mason turned towards his new partner, “CCTV, really?”

Carter smirked, “Cameras are more reliable then people.”

“You’re a strange man.” The older detective replied as they headed out.

“They’re less likely to lie as well.”

* * *

 

 

Directly across from the flower shop was a beaten down Seven Eleven, the bell over the door made a sharp noise as Detectives Mason and Carter entered, two teenage boys made a quick exit upon spotting the badge hanging around Masons neck causing the shopkeeper to sigh audibly.

“You cops always got to be coming in here and scaring off the customers?” The balding man demanded from behind the counter.

“You want customers that are scared away by police?” Carter asked sarcastically.

“What do you want?” The man replied keeping his eyes on Mason who had started wondering around the shop.

“Well my partner over there will take a black coffee and I’ll have your CCTV footage from last night.”

“What do you want that for? I haven’t reported anything.”

“Nothing to do with you sir, we just want the footage from your outside camera. It faces the florists?”

“Yeah, morons installed it in the wrong place.”

“Well there was a crime committed in the alley next to the florists and we think your camera might have caught the perpetrator.”

“Do I get a reward?”

“No,” Mason snorted finally joining Carter at the counter.

“Then why should I give it to you?”

“We have a court order, you don’t have a choice.” Carter replied.

The owner glared at them before traipsing into the backroom to get it.

“You think we got this asshole on video?” Mason asked leaning on the counter next to his partner.

“If we’re lucky.”

“Yeah well I’m not holding onto hope.” Whatever Carter was about to reply with was cut off by the harsh ringing off his cell phone. Unknown number flashed across the screen as he pulled it out of his pocket.

“I got to get this Mason.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Detective Carter,” he growled into the handset as soon as he was outside the shop.

_“This is a collect call from B.B Rayburn Correctional Centre do you accept the charges?”_ He felt his chest seize up as she rattled out the words, _“do you accept the charges?”_ She repeated as James was trying to claw the words out of his throat.

“Yes,” he finally managed to spit out.

_“Please hold.”_ James felt his fingers begin to twitch against the cell phone as his breath came out in sharp puffs.

_“Hello?”_ The deep rumbling southern accent crackled down the line.

“Dad?” James whispered down the line when he could finally speak.

_“That you boy?”_ Was growled down the line causing Carter to flinch.

“Yeah it me-”

“Asshole finally gave it up.” Mason announced loudly as he burst out of the shop door causing Carter to jump. “Good,” Carter replied quickly hanging up the phone and shoving it back in his pocket.

“You alright?” The older detective queried, taking in his partners ruffled appearance.

“I’m fine, where are we hitting next?” Mason pointed at the camera on the takeaway next to the flower shop, “let’s go.”

* * *

Morales sighed as he sifted through the reams of CCTV footage the detectives had received.

“Wait what was that?” Carter piped up from his seat just beyond Morales’ shoulder.

“What was what?” Mason groaned,“My eyes went funny a half hour ago.”

“The guy in the hoddie that’s the same guy that we saw grab the victim.”

Mason squinted at the black and white footage, “how can you tell?”

“I can enhance the image and compare it to the image of the perp grabbing the vic.” Morales piped up.

“And we can compare that to the sketch artist image Benson and Amaro got from the victim,” Carter smacked Mason on the arm with the back of his hand, a silly grin spreading across his face, “teamwork man.”

“I’m getting sick of you already.” The older detective groaned.

* * *

The sketch was already taped up to the whiteboard in SVU by the time Carter and Mason made it back there and Benson was filling in names on it.

“Did you manage to get through to her?” Carter asked the female detective as he tacked up the CCTV stills onto the board under suspects.

“Yeah, she released the rape kit to us as well.” Benson replied.

“We’re getting somewhere, good.”

“You’re way too happy to be a cop.” Mason commented.

Carter laughed, “I’m just happy to have a job where I can go home at night.”

“Just wait until we get to a trial,” Amaro chimed in, “that’ll make you less happy.”

“Duly noted detective.”

“Our perp was hanging around the shop before he attacked the vic.” Mason intervened dragging the conversation back to the current step in the investigation.

“When we talked to the victim she said an old boyfriend Callum Young had been bothering her.” Amaro injected.

“Okay,” Benson smacked her hands together, “Nick you and Detective Mason go talk to the boyfriend and Carter and I will go talk to the other girls working in the florists.”

Amaro shot her a look before nodding and gesturing Mason to follow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a really long time since I updated this story, I apologise profusely. This story might end up being longer than five chapters, I don't actually remember why I set it as that I might of had a plan for this story at one point but I never wrote it down soooo I'm making it up as I go along. 
> 
> Also am I writing Amaro correctly?? I don't really know I'm not really a fan of his. Also Barba will be back in the next chapter.


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